


take a breath, take it deep

by bluetint



Category: GOT7
Genre: Bloodplay, Demons, Dresden Files AU, F/M, Face-Sitting, Guns, Rule 63, Russian Roulette, Sexual Violence, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetint/pseuds/bluetint
Summary: A vampire and a demon play Russian Roulette. Minds are blown. Tables are broken.
Relationships: Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	take a breath, take it deep

**Author's Note:**

> For this piece, I drew inspiration from The Dresden Files. Most of the premise is based off of the series, those who have read the books will see what is coming from where. In the books there are several Courts: White, Red, Black and Jade. Each court is classified so because the vampires in each one are different. I made the Violet Court up on the fly; it’s a mix of the White and Black Court, except Bambi isn’t a ugly monster. Just a pretty one that feeds on blood and sexual pleasure.
> 
> Bloodservants is a glorified term for a vampire’s bloodbag. Did I mention I took too many liberties with TDF? because I did half of this is just pulled out of my ass.
> 
> When humans die, they're given the choice to be an angel or a demon. Guess what Jaebeom did? :)
> 
>   
<strike> I'm not saying I loosely based Bambi off of several of the vampires in the books (namely Lara and Susan), Jaebeom off of maybe a wacky Harry thats a demon and Yugyeom's Justine, except I totally did</strike>
> 
> Also, the Velvet Room has been taken directly out of the books, because I am an unoriginal fuck.
> 
> There are variations in how you can play Russian Roulette and they were too complicated for me to follow. So I went with my own. Here’s how it goes: You draw a card from a deck, throw it up. If it lands face up, pick the gun and pull the trigger. If it doesn’t, you pass. Game ends when someone bites the bullet.
> 
> No one’s brains but mine were blown out in the making of this fic. 
> 
> Lastly, a thank you to Mel and Doja Cat. 
> 
> Enough context, on with the debauchery.
> 
> I did tag appropriately, but if I missed anything, please do let me know.
> 
> P. S. To maximize your reading pleasure, picture [ this ](https://twitter.com/anendearinglump/status/1195059170673856513?s=19) Jaebeom.

The pearl grey wisps of smoke frozen in the air gave the impression of time standing still. In reality, it was the incense being burned in essential oil. The spicy and woody aroma blanketed the room, lulled him, giving him the feeling of being suspended in a dreamlike state.

After all you need not be tense when you were hanging out with vampires. Hell, skittishness would be ill-advised in this case, lest they misinterpret your actions as the desire to flee, which will cause them to pounce. You don't want that.

One did not walk into Mordor without balls of steel when they were about to play Russian Roulette with the undead. 

The card flips into the air, spins around in slow motion, before descending to the managing surface at a glacial pace. It lands face up. Queen of hearts. 

Lacquered nails click against the metal butt of the antique Smith and Wesson as it's raised up. One long, spidery finger traces the trigger guard, before coming to rest on the trigger. 

The sharp click of the safety going off echoes in the room, audible even over the slow-paced raunchy song in the background, which felt out of place yet not, in this setting.

White silk crinkles as the muzzle is placed next to her temple. The action causes the front of her shirt, precariously held together by a single button, to slip, offering a generous glimpse of golden skin and the slight curve of her breast. 

Jaebeom tenses, bracing himself for the echo of the gunshot.

Bambi pulls the trigger. 

Nothing happens.

She spins the cylinder, places it in the middle of the table, turning the Wesson so that the grip faces him and nudges it towards him.

"Your turn." 

The whole ordeal took less than a minute but to the inhabitants of the room, it was an eternity. 

Jaebeom straightens, unlocking his fingers from where they were tightly clasped together. His own duster emits litany of obnoxious crinkling sounds as he reaches for the card.

The deck is placed a bit farther than usual. It is no coincidence. Nothing ever is with Bambi. 

Instead of standing up to get the deck, Jaebeom tugs the wooden (extremely out of place) table towards him. Snake eyes track the gesture, understanding it for what it was; deliberate disregard for command. 

He throws the card up in a practiced arc. It lands face down. A pass. It's his one of many for today. But the relief is short-lived. For a pass meant another turn. 

Another opportunity to get fucked. 

Ah well, that was what he was here for anyway.

"Please be good," Yugyeom had whispered to him hours earlier when Jaebeom had raised an eyebrow at him in response to today's outfit. He recalls the comment again as he rises, about to honor his request.

“It's awfully warm in here,” remarks Jaebeom with a careless air. Inhuman eyes follow his movements; the unbuttoning of the duster, the shrugging off of it, the unveiling of the harness on him, the slight bulge of his flesh where the black leather was digging in too tight, especially near the chest area. 

If Jaebeom were a cat, he would preen at the imperceptible shift in Bambi's posture which spoke volumes. Her eye had twitched in displeasure when she’d walked into the room and seen him clothed in that ratty coat and old pants. Now they were alight with a vicious glee, the kind that promised a good time for Jaebeom. 

Usually a servant, or Yugyeom, would materialize out of thin air to relieve him of his duster. But they'd been made to clear the premises and they had an unspoken agreement where they refused to subject Yugyeom to this. So he lets it fall to the floor, where it lies, forlorn and abandoned. And downright ugly and out of place in the elegance of this room.

Bambi’s tone is lax. Unaffected. “Is it now? Should I turn on the air-conditioner?”

“Don’t trouble yourself on my account,” Jaebeom answers, leans back with a smirk, crossing his arms behind his head, hairy armpits on show, making sure the vampire’s eyes track the movements of his lower half as he stretches his legs languidly.

The round table is low, offering the woman an unobstructed view of Jaebeom spreading his legs, the button of his faded Levis that he’d left undone on purpose and open zipper on display.

Her lips curve upwards. His brazenness has been acknowledged. 

Manspreading in front of a prominent member of the Violet Court (or any court for that matter) is an offense punishable by death as it was construed as a gesture of blatant disregard for their authority. That is, if you were a mere mortal or a creature with lowly standing in the Court. Jaebeom was lucky for he happened to be neither. 

Also, the harness had been the only thing in the box Yugyeom had offered him. Nothing else. Naturally, he’d had to improvise.

There's only eight cards left. 

Bambi's cobalt gray Devon Rex, King, meows, tracking the movements of the plastic cards with an intent gaze. The feline lived up to his name, displaying princely decorum uncommon for a species that pounced on the slightest provocation offering by tiny moving objects. The other cats were nowhere to be seen, probably having been put away. 

There’s a subtle tightness around her eyes and mouth, a gauntness to her face, that wasn’t there before.

“You haven’t fed,” he says. Yugyeom’s unmarked skin flashes before his eyes again.

"No," answers Bambi, tone placid and amused. A tremor twitches through her fingers. Jaebeom stares.

“Draw,” she orders.

Back and forth. Pull and push. Poke and nudge. Oh, this delightful little dance they do. 

Finally its the last card. The Joker. Face up. The gun is in Jaebeom’s hands. He cradles the familiar deadly weight. But not even a quarter as deadly as the woman sitting in front of him.

His eyes fall shut as he places the gun at his temple. 

Inhales. 

Exhales. 

Releases the safety. 

The song reaches its crescendo. 

Jaebeom pulls the trigger. 

A brief, sharp pain explodes throughout the side of his face, the intensity of the pain screwing his eyes shut at the same time as a pained shout rips itself from his mouth. 

The gun drops from his hands, landing on the floor with a solid, final thud that echoes around the room.

King scatters with an angry sound, making a dive for the shell casing, giving chase as it skitters across the floor. 

Bambi rises, _gods she’s tall, so tall,_ looms over him, making him feel like prey two seconds from being devoured. Bambi knocks the table out of her way with a quick snap of her wrist, sending it crashing loudly to the side. One of the legs breaks off, the splintered end of it landing a few feet off to the side looking too much like the wooden stakes Jaebeom uses to put her kind out of misery.

Sighing loudly, she pulls the kanzashi out of the coiled bun that had been holding her silver hair captive, the wavy tendrils cascading gleefully down her back. The pin too, takes up a spot on the floor, next to the gun.

"Dummy ammunition?" inquires Jaebeom dazedly, as a thin rivulet of blood slid down the side of his face, wet, warm and fast. The wound wouldn't scar, nor would it take long to heal. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like a bitch for a bit.

A bare foot with neatly manicured nails comes to rest at the side of his head, digs into the padding, pushing the back down. Most pureblood vampires furnished their house in traditional styles; moose heads hanging on paneled walls, priceless artifacts hanging above doorways, sinister oil paintings in the hallways, everything designed to put the guests at as much unease as possible.

But not Bambi, oh no. With minimalist decor, glass windows and tabletops, along with little splashes of color and personal touches among the sea of white, this was easily one of the classiest houses he’d been in.The chair he was sitting on was custom built for the purpose of Bambi putting her playthings into the desired position of the moment without having to do much. The now broken table too. Glass tables were too much of a hassle to clean up. He’s flat on his back in less than a second. 

Plus, it was quite comfortable. There was a cushion built into it which pillowed the back of his head and supported his neck quite nicely as Bambi planted both knees on either side of his face, ass hovering right above his shoulders.

Bambi shrugs off her shirt and discards her bra. "I don't have the patience to wait for your head wound to knit itself together today. For a demon, you have an abysmally slow healing factor." 

Jaebeom chuckles. The half-chub he’s been nursing this entire time has transformed into a raging erection that’s peeking out of his undone zipper, the metal teeth grazing uncomfortably against his hard flesh. "To you maybe." 

Nails akin to sharp blades, tip his chin upward. Bambi's fingers skim over the blood trickling sluggishly down the side of his face, smears it over the arch of his cheekbone. Her thumb presses down on his bottom lip, the nail biting into the plush of it, piercing skin. Bambi only got long nails for special occasions.

A drop of blood wells up. Bambi's reptilian eyes grow dark. 

Jaebeom flicks his tongue out, the obscene forked appendage that fascinated and disgusted Bambi in equal amounts, and licked his lips. Excruciatingly slow, putting on a show. 

A familiar heady musk fills the air near Jaebeom's face, as Bambi lines her crotch against his mouth. Jaebeom tilts his head a little, so his cheek is squished against the smooth inside of her thigh.

Fingers spread over his scalp like gentle vines before turning into talons with a tight grip on his hair. Bambi drops her hips low. _"Suck."_

The order is absolute. The tone brooked no arguments. The eager twitch in his pants indicates that Jaebeom most certainly does not have a problem with that. 

The potent musk had already alerted him to her heightened state of arousal, but the amount of wetness that comes in contact with his mouth startles him anew. His hands come up, slapping against the flesh of her lower back, as he squeezes. 

Unless stated otherwise, Jaebeom was to keep his hands to himself. Bambi was always quick to dole out punishment, in Court and off it, but it was a testament to how frayed her control was that all she did in response to that was throwing her head back and letting out a long drawn out sigh. The ends of her hair tickle Jaebeom’s abs, her own abs slick with sweat in the lamplight. Jaebeom’s mouth waters at the sight. As does his dick.

He was in hell.

<strike> He had never been happier to be so.</strike>

“Do I make you horny baby?” Bambi asks in a breathy voice as she fucks his face. Jaebeom responds with a noisy, lewd suck and pushes two fingers inside. His fingers are soaked to the knuckle with liquid warmth within seconds.

There was an almost comforting routine to this now. Whenever the Council was in session, Jaebeom would come in through the bedroom window, engage in flirtatious banter with the bloodservant, Yugyeom, as he helped him into whatever outfit that had been left out for him and then proceed to the living room, where the stage would already be set. Bambi would be there before him, asserting her dominance in this scene, but today, she'd been late due to the meeting and had not been her usual animated self during the game, meaning there were _things_ on her mind.

Yugyeom’s untouched neck had been a sign of what was to come. Bambi avoided feeding from Yugyeom as much as possible, as much as she could get away with which negated the entire point of having a bloodservant.That gesture meant that he’d be dealing with a vampire with fraying control. The thought had made him tingle. 

It had carried him throughout this game, this convoluted foreplay which resulted in him being used as a beloved fucktoy by one the deadliest vampires in this city. He wasn't complaining though, he thought, pressing his nose up against her clit. His nose stud, the rectangular diamond one with the sharp edges switched out for a plain one, a round metal ball attached to a pin, glides against her folds. 

A hand drifts down and squeezes his pec, then pinches the nipple sharply. Squeezes until Jaebeom moans against her cunt. It is a source of delight to Bambi, the fluidity of his forms, his manipulation of this flesh prison. Jaebeom had considered transforming into a woman when he’d first put the harness on, knowing how much Bambi enjoyed playing with the breasts, but then let it be. Being a sex demon had its perks for both parties involved.

“Yes.” His honest words come out muffled against the heat between her legs.

“You made me wait,” she grits out, raking her nails down his chest, leaving a trail of pain pleasure in its wake. Later, he'll trace his fingers over the scratches, pressing down on them to feel the burn before they healed and disappeared. 

“It’s not like I have any pressing duties or anything,” he retorts.

His kind came and went between the worlds as they pleased, but even they had rules. Rules, as you will go on to learn, are a concept that transcend humanity. Aside from the Big Evil D, Jaebeom reported to no one. That was until he entered into a temporary binding contract with whoever requested his services. For that duration, he was to be pledged solely to them.

Like a freelance government worker. If such a thing existed.

Clients of all kinds sought out their services. Compensation was handsome, because those who wielded great magic were often affluent and powerful. There were no such things like morality or obligations holding them or him back.

Even so, some of Jaebeom’s contractors unnerved him. Especially the Ancient Ones, those who’d been wandering this Earth for so long that no one knew of their origin, the blank look in their eyes making it obvious they had nothing to live for, held nothing sacred and would break even the taboo of their kind. To Jaebeom, they were more dangerous than anything wandering this planet.

They did things beyond his comprehension and understanding. Their actions resulted in a drastic ripple-effect that lasted centuries. It may have been one of his previous bosses who may have directly or indirectly contributed to Bambi’s current agitated state.

That he was currently working hard to rectify. He withdraws his fingers, shiny with slick and winds both arms around Bambi’s lower half, pulling her down so that her bum is pressed flush against his chest, more slick smears against his chin before he locks his mouth over her engorged clit and fucking goes to town.

Bambi lets out a scream that turns into an animalistic growl halfway. Fingers scrabble to hold on to something, anything. Ripping sounds echo in his ears as the fabric of the pillow is torn, cotton spilling out.

Her hips stutter, and Jaebeom closes his eyes as she spills over his face, bunching _tight, tight, tight,_ before relaxing and slumping over him, wrung out. Jaebeom hoists himself into an upright position, takes a second to wince at the mess in his pants, and then maneuvers Bambi’s pliant form into a sitting position on his lap and shove her face into his neck.

“Suck,” he orders. Repeats in a louder voice and tightens his grip on the back of her neck when she doesn’t comply. Hisses through his teeth when two sharp fangs puncture the skin. Sighs when Bambi’s baby soft mouth latches on, suckling at the dribbling blood, feeding like a person stranded in the Sahara. 

What seems like an hour later, or could be ten minutes, Bambi removes her mouth from his neck. Life has returned to her cheeks, pink and full. There's blood smeared over her lips and chin. Jaebeom pulls her cheek, hard and Bambi bites his hand in retaliation. 

“Don’t bite the hand that fingered you,” quips Jaebeom, right before he loses consciousness.

\---

“I’ve been named next Queen of the Violet Court.”

“Nice.”

“You don’t sound very surprised.”

Jaebeom doesn’t answer, preoccupied with the stars twinkling merrily in inky blue sky. Not a soul was to be seen for miles on the sprawling estate. A dog barked somewhere. Probably one of the guard dogs. The lights were off, the lights coming from the house the only source of illumination. 

“You could have told me, you know," she continues, waiting for his answer. 

With great effort, Jaebeom pulls his attention from the night sky towards the edge of the tub, where Bambi was seated. 

The outdoor Jacuzzi was one of man’s greatest inventions and something he’d always wanted to try in his previous life but had never gotten the chance to. It was his (one of his many) favorite things in this house. Often, Bambi would join him. Sometimes, like now, she wouldn't. 

The combination of the roulette, orgasm and feeding had drained him. He’d woken up just as he was being lowered into the tub, Yugyeom smiling at him gratefully, informing him that there was dinner on the table and fresh clothes on the bed before leaving.

The edges of her red satin kimono robe were getting wet, making it look like she’d gotten blood on it but Bambi paid it no heed. She was staring at Jaebeom, rolling a lit Java Mint between her fingers, eyes focused as if she was trying to see through him, looking nothing like the half-starved woman drinking greedily from him a few hours prior.

Yugyeom was in the living room, squaring away what needed to be squared away, wiping all traces of what had transpired earlier. 

It occurs to Jaebeom, that in moments like these, that he should be more scared of this ancient breed of creatures. Granted, Bambi was among the younger ones, but that didn’t mean you could rule her out. Now, she possessed the _means_ and _power_ to destroy him, if she so wished.

Jaebeom sits up, plucks the thin cigar from her fingers to take a generous drag and expels smoke, marveling at the decadent aftertaste of mocha before answering. Her nails are back to normal now. 

“You know we can’t do that.” 

Bambi takes it from him, pulls and gives it back. “Still. Would’ve been nice to have some forewarning.”

Jaebeom shrugs, expelling the smoke from his mouth, marveling at the denseness of it. From houses to vices, Bambi had impeccable taste in everything. 

“They’re giving me the Velvet Room.”

The Velvet Room was a high-priced escort and brothel service that catered to most of the powerful players in the city, human and otherwise. It was a treasure trove of spilled secrets; things that men claimed to take to the grave, but let slip from their lips after a few drinks or in the heat of the moment in the company of a beautiful woman or whatever it was that you were into. The Velvet Room catered to all. It was also one of the longest-running vampire owned businesses.

“Ah.”

“They were going to name Jessica. But they can’t find her. Strange, isn't it?” 

Politics as a whole, didn't concern him. What went on beyond the curtain was far above him and frankly, he wasn't interested.

“Would you know anything about that, perchance?”

Nichkhun hadn’t explained anything when he’d ordered a hit on Jessica, and Jaebeom hadn’t asked. Don’t ask, don’t tell, Big Evil D had told him. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

Jaebeom reflects back to the unbridled rage on Jessica’s face, her elongating fangs, bloodshot eyes, bulging veins before he’d shoved the blessed stake in her heart. Recalls the stomach-roiling stench of burning flesh mixed with gasoline, hellfire and sickness, as he dispassionately watched her burn. Not a trace had been left, he'd made sure of it. 

Even if Jaebeom hadn’t gone through with the hit order, the cancer would’ve killed her anyway which would have led to another power struggle as various parties within the city fought for control that would’ve led to chaos and collateral damage. Nichkhun had just thwarted an inevitability, saved lives. Jaebeom couldn’t imagine a better person than Bambi for this position. He takes another drag.

“Nope.” 

“Huh.”

They finish the cigar together, staring at the stars in the sky. Bambi gets up some time later, reminds him to eat dinner before leaving, brushing a tender hand over his damp hair, before pulling his head back for a rough kiss.

“Play with my pussy Jaebeom, not my emotions. You’ll live longer that way,” she whispers harshly against his lips, biting down, before walking away, leaving him there with the taste of blood, mint and mocha in his mouth.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> kermit me: let's write a bbam russian roulette flashfic
> 
> hooded kermit me: flash fic, my ass.
> 
> btw, [ this ](https://rockndollstore.com/products/gothic-faux-leather-body-harness-belt) is the harness Jaebeom was wearing


End file.
